


the logistics of the third option

by annaslastdalliance



Category: Hana Yori Dango & Related Fandoms, Hana Yori Dango | Boys Over Flowers (TV)
Genre: Actually addresses Tsukasa's canon anger management issues, BAMF Tsukushi, Based exclusively on the jdrama, D/s undertones, F/M, Magical Realism, Multi, OT3, Overuse of wild animal imagery for Tsukasa, Polyamory, Shigeru is a good person and deserves some happiness, Sort of half way between polyamory and OT3, Tsukasa is a complete fucking wreck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 12:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1469635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annaslastdalliance/pseuds/annaslastdalliance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makino Tsukushi can see the future. (And what she sees is the three of them together.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the logistics of the third option

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of caveats! First up, I can't believe I actually wrote this. Secondly, it's 180% based on the 2005 jdrama. I haven’t read the manga or watched any of the other movies/adaptations. Nor have I watched anything after the 6th episode of _Hana Yori Dango Returns_. As such, there's a good chance this will actively work against some later-established characterizations or some manga-canonical things. I'm really going in blind, working exclusively from the drama and Wikipedia, so for these reasons, you might want to consider the whole thing a sort of parallel-universe AU!
> 
> See the end for _a lot_ more notes about characterization choices, OT3 rationales, and wild ranting. Here I will only pre-empt one more thing, and state that my version of Makino Tsukushi is a selective retconn of Makino's softer moments in the series and based heavily on her assertive aspect (though I've tried to show this is something Makino pushes herself to be, not something she is naturally). OKAY, ALL DONE. Thanks for reading  >.>

> _Why did he call me when Doumyouji was with him?_

 - Makino Tsukushi, _Hana Yori Dango_   _Returns_ , episode 6

 

 

 

Makino Tsukushi can see the future.

At first, she’s not really sure _why_ it happens. She sees in first grade that she will end up attending Eitoku, and the vision doesn’t make her push for it, and it certainly doesn’t make it happen. It just _does_. She sees, too, when she is about to punch Doumyouji, that she will later end up kissing him, and it only makes her throw a little more weight behind her arm. If she’s going to kiss him later, she wants to make sure she gets a good punch in while she can.

If it starts anywhere—not seeing the future, but meddling with it—it starts with Hanazawa Rui, or more specifically, with a vision she has of holding him. Tsukushi can’t really put a finger on why _this_ vision is the one that makes her act; makes her stop seeing the future as a prediction and rather as a goal. The scene is more familial than romantic, but she still comes out of it dazed, staring at Rui where he’s sprawled in the stairwell.

“Eh?”

“I said, can you keep it down? This fire-escape is my area.”

 _Selfish_ , Tsukushi thinks. _Selfish, arrogant, absolutely—absolutely—unbelievable_. She won’t feel this about Hanazawa Rui for long, so she enjoys feeling it now, fiercely. Then she squeezes her eyes shut and remembers the feel of his head against her chest, the unexpected voltage of his soft, unfettered smile, and when she opens them again, she is decided.

Ultimately, Tsukushi knows the things she sees will probably happen without her intervention. But then they happen when she _does_ intervene, too, and there’s probably a word for this, something close to _self-fulfilling_. After Hanazawa Rui, however, she finds she can’t _stop_ acting towards them. There’s a fear in her now that perhaps her visions only come true _because_ she sees them; because they colour what she does from there on out, and, conscious or not, works towards their realization. It’s not a bad fear, all in all. Tsukushi doesn’t believe in fate, so it’s easier, if somewhat more stressful, to interpret her visions as a guide and roll her sleeves up.

And it’s especially easy when the visions are something she actually _wants_ , like Hanazawa Rui’s head resting in the cage of her chest. Tsukushi tries not to let this worry her. She’s never longed after emotions in her visions before; never had them reach back through time and insist on their relevance _now_ , in this moment.

When Rui picks up his book to leave, Tsukushi finds herself hanging sideways to read the title.

 

 

 

With Doumyouji Tsukasa, it happens a little differently.

On the one hand, Tsukushi knows what he will mean to her from the first moment she hits him. On the other, her visions somehow fail to anticipate how frustrating and infuriating he will be at the same time. So Tsukushi fights, and throws her heart unthinkingly after Rui’s, and doesn’t trouble to keep her scorn below the surface every time Doumyouji mangles his Japanese. She will love him eventually; she will despise him as long as she can.

It doesn’t last. Then New York happens, and Tsukushi buries herself in study and waits for another vision that never comes, something to tell her whether or not to keep hitting redial. Eventually, she decides it’s time to return to old-fashioned methods, to make her own fate happen. It’s over so quickly: she cries herself sick clinging onto Doumyouji’s stupid glitzy phone like a lifeline, studies till she’s too tired to dream of him, and finally folds herself back into the comfort of certain futures. If she hasn’t seen Doumyouji Tsukasa in her visions lately, it is simply because he isn't there to be seen.

Then Doumyouji grips her wrist and says _don’t go_ , and Tsukushi suddenly flashes forward again after a year of prophetic silence.

She is in Doumyouji’s bed. It’s a little embarrassing, that she even recognizes it as Doumyouji’s, but she’s been in his house before, knows enough to recognize its gaudy décor anywhere; remembers standing there, in a room like a palace in that stupid, elegant dress; a doll he had dressed up.

In the vision, she’s awake because something’s happened. That something is Hanazawa Rui, sitting up at the waist beside her and saying _dou shita no?_ He looks sleepy, but serene, as though being woken up really isn’t any bother at all, and Tsukushi feels her future-self disagreeing, twisting grumpily to the left and demanding, “What _is_ it, Tsukasa?”

And Doumyouji’s _there_ , sitting up in his bedclothes like Hanazawa Rui and gripping onto the sheets like they’re a stone he’s about to hurl at someone. He’s breathing heavily, shaking, and the eyes he turns to them are unfocussed and gleaming. Tsukushi finds herself thinking that he looks kind of beautiful, like this. Her future-self doesn’t share this sentiment, either, and the rush of guilt and panic shake her out of it.

Back in the present, Makino stares down at Doumyouji’s hand. Careful, painfully aware of her own staggered breathing, she unwraps it from her wrist; thinks _I’ll never get into law school like this_.

She goes after Shigeru. Shigeru is kind, and hurting, and Doumyouji Tsukasa, as it turns out, can wait.

 

 

 

Even though her visions have never been wrong before, this is the first one that Makino Tsukushi thinks might not come true. In truth, she’s not even sure she _wants_ it to; remembers feeling exasperation and exhaustion and _love_ without one ounce of jealousy or embarrassment and can’t quite believe it _can_ be true. She lies in bed at night, turning it over in her mind as she tries to sleep, trying to imagine it, not predict it, and what she imagines hurts. For once, her vision feels incomplete. Does Doumyouji confide in them, tell them about his dream? Does Tsukushi hold onto his hand as he speaks? She imagines Hanazawa Rui leaning over her to press his lips to Doumyouji’s forehead and feels heartsick.

 

 

 

Tsukushi’s first attempt is a bait and switch, inspired by Doumyouji’s own when he first left for New York. In matter of fact, it’s not so much a bait and switch as a bait and bait, so she’s relieved when neither of them are late.

“Rui?” Doumyouji demands, looking between Tsukushi and Rui with first confusion, then a palpably building fury. “What are you doing here?”

“B-both you, sit down, please.” Tsukushi avoids eye contact until they both come over to the table. Rui sits down first, complacent but wary, and when Doumyouji follows suit it is with a vague sense of one-upmanship. Tsukushi stares at the tablecloth, wishes she hadn’t already consumed her coffee in an attempt to settle her nerves so that she’d have something to do with hands now.

“You—the two of you should order. I…guess you’ve probably never been here before, but they have really good drinks, even if it’s cheap.”

“Makino,” Rui says, in his calm, even-handed way. “Why did you invite the two of us?”

There are lots of things she could say to that, like _because I don’t want the two of you fighting anymore_ , or _because I think the three of us need to talk,_ or even _because I think I’m in love with both of you and it isn’t fair to cut someone out_ , even though she’s not sure if that one’s actually true yet. In the end, she says, “Because I wanted you both here,” because that definitely _is_ , and Rui smiles at that, recognizing his own simplicity of desire in it. Tsukushi blinks back at him and thinks, suddenly, that it’s no wonder he and Shizuka never broke up, but just painfully drifted apart, because breaking up with Shizuka is nothing Rui ever wanted to _do_. He picks up the menu from the table.

“Are you getting anything?”

Doumyouji jumps, grabs at the menu and then flings it down again like it’s burnt him. “This is crazy! Makino, I—I don’t want him to be here!”

Hanazawa Rui just hums. “Only, if you’re going to storm off instead, I won’t order anything, either.”

For a moment, Doumyouji is thrown. “Huh?”

“Makino said she wanted both of us here. I won’t stay if you leave.”

Rui crinkles a smile in her direction and Tsukushi exhales gratefully.

“This is crazy,” Doumyouji repeats. “Why would you—” He laughs a little, and Tsukushi feels her mouth tug downwards; can see him winding towards a giddy hysteria she’s seen on him before. “Try—trying to hit two birds with one rock, Makino?”

“Stone,” she corrects, automatically, and Doumyouji suddenly pushes to his feet, swaying gently.

“This is—I’m leaving. Makino…don’t—don’t call me out with him here, again.”

As soon as he’s gone, Tsukushi lays her face in the crease of one of the plastic menus and moans. Above her, she hears Hanazawa Rui laugh, and cracks open an eyelid to convey a mixture of resentment and indignation.

“That was fun,” Rui says, completely unironic, as he climbs to his feet. “We should do it again.”

Tsukushi lifts her head and nods, suddenly biting back a grin. She’s confused by her mercurial reaction, thinking too many things to be doing so clearly _._ Rui leans over and kisses her hair, and a single thought crystalizes, identifiable: _Doumyouji’s an idiot._

After Rui leaves, Tsukushi pays the cheque, trying not to feel too guilty about the unnecessary expense, and gathers up her things. She finds Doumyouji slouching against a pillar outside, looking murderous, and isn't overly surprised. He’s pulled this one before, too.

“Why are you still here?” She’s not sure if she particularly cares to hear the answer. Doumyouji Tsukasa can wait, and she’s _tired_ of dealing with him like this.

“What do you mean? W—waiting for you!” The hysteria hasn’t gone far. Beneath the anger, he’s jittery as a wounded animal.

“ _Spying_ on me,” Tsukushi corrects, and watches the array of emotions that flit lightning-fast across his face before it settles into defensiveness. “And you see? Nothing happened.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to kill him,” Doumyouji says, and then Tsukushi surprises herself because she reaches up to the scarf he is wearing—white like the scarf Hanazawara Rui wears so often—and fists her fingers into it and tugs.

“If you so much as hit him,” she says, tightly, yanking Doumyouji’s face down towards her own, “I will never talk to you again. I mean it.”

“Makino!” He reaches towards her with a reflexive violence and she turns her cheek towards his fingers, opening. Doumyouji flinches back, just as reflexive, tugging instead at the scarf around his neck, and Tsukushi finally lets go.

“I mean it,” she repeats.

“Alright, alright, I won’t kill him.” Doumyouji is rearranging the scarf around his neck, movements jerky. Tsukushi thinks she can hear his heart beating; wonders if he knows how wide his pupils are right now, or how steady. “Anyway, why did you invite us both here if you weren’t trying to make me angry?”

“I said, because I wanted you both here.” Tsukushi shifts her hands around in her pockets. “I think I’ll do it again. It would be nice if we could hang out for an hour or so before you lost your temper.”

“Hmph. I don’t know what you see in him.”

Tsukushi narrows her eyes, taken by surprise. It has been against all her hopes that Rui would understand; to think Doumyouji is on the edge of it, too, is strangely overwhelming. But then: Doumyouji and Rui are friends, probably best friends—of course he can see what she does in him. More damning, she already _knows_ this will happen, knows it with the certainty that she knows she will be called _poor_ at least thrice more this semester. She thinks of Doumyouji, and his casual violence, and the way even being shouted at must seem infinitely preferable to being manipulated, or even worse, ignored; and then of Rui, of the little she’s seen of him and Doumyouji together: Rui and his easy honesty, his comfortable solitude, the quiet harbour that chooses, over and over, to exist in Doumyouji’s periphery.

She knows it will happen. For the first time, she thinks she wants it to.

 

 

 

Before Tsukushi finds the time to drag the two of them together again, she accidentally flips Tsukasa through the floor of their temporary apartment—self-defence lessons obviously kicking into overdrive—and ends up hiding in a forgotten room of Tsukasa’s ridiculous house, dodging around corners to avoid the serving staff.

The first night, she lies face down on the mattress, exhausted beyond even taking off her jacket, and thinks of Doumyouji Tsukasa in his crisp white collar, stiff above his vest, looking utterly _derailed_ by his older sister, as usual. It’s a nice thought, but it occurs to her she has no desire to actually _see_ Tsukasa now; would rather just curl around this image of him in peace and not have to watch his eyes skittering. She falls asleep wanting to wake up to Hanazawa Rui’s hand in hers, and wakes up instead with the feeling mostly subdued, its memory lodged behind her eyes.

 

 

 

By the time Valentine’s Day rolls around, Tsukushi is sorely tempted to give chocolate to them both, potential misunderstandings be damned. She’s had two visions since the last one, one of helping Hanazawa Rui pack for a weekend trip to France, and another, considerably more vivid, of shouting at Tsukasa in half-whisper as Rui dozes on Tsukasa’s double-poster, an open book laid over his face.

Instead, she gives chocolate to no one at all and arranges to meet Tsukasa on the nearby bridge to return his necklace.

“What is this supposed to mean?”

The question isn’t really surprising, but Tsukushi still feels oddly disappointed by it. Sometimes, she conflates this Tsukasa with the one within her mind (—the one in their future—) and forgets how deeply his defensiveness still runs.

“Listen,” she says, and then again, louder, when Tsukasa’s eyes don’t stop moving, “ _Listen!_ We can’t be happy if we keep on _hurting_ everyone.”

“I know that,” Tsukasa says, furious. “That isn’t—”

“It _is_ ,” Tsukushi says, tamping down the tightening in her throat. “No matter how much you want to, we can’t pretend New York never happened. You’re engaged. Hanazawa Rui is…in love with me. And you ignored me for _one entire year_.”

“Alright, alright,” Tsukasa says, and he’s looking flatly miserable again. “What do you want me to do about it?”

For a moment, Tsukushi thinks he won’t realize what he’s just asked, but then he turns convulsively towards her and something like panic flits across his face. He hesitates, and Tsukushi concentrates on keeping her chin raised and her eyes clear.  

“Rui should be here for this,” she says at last, and Tsukasa hits the railing with an open palm.

“You know Rui already understands this a lot better than I do!” He isn’t looking at her anymore, eyes gone trapped-animal again. “Please, Makino. I-I'll go anywhere you go, you know that. You're the girl I approve of, after all. But I don’t…I don’t know what you want me to _do_.”

She could say _I’m confused_ , but she wants to say _you do_. Or maybe: _you will_ , because she knows at least that much is true.

Instead, she says: “This is the only thing I can think of, Doumyouji,” and wills him to understand it. Her chin drops, at long last. “I can’t—I can’t think of any other way. And I _need_ …to find a way.”

“Me, too.”

They look at each other then, properly, finally. Tsukasa’s face is regal and softening, turning dull golden in the morning light.

 

 

 

When Tsukushi sees the seven of them having okonomiyaki, real surprise shudders through her for what might be the first time. Shizuka Todou is sitting across the table from Rui smiling like they’re on a date, and Ookawahara Shigeru tickles Doumyouji to distract him as he waits impatiently for his drink. Future-Tsukushi doesn’t feel hurt, but present-Tsukushi does, a little. She knows Doumyouji and Shigeru get married; knows Rui and Shizuka will always have a connection nobody else can understand. She just didn’t think they’d all be going out for okonomiyaki together, or that when they did she’d be sitting with Mimasaka and Nishikada, trying to subtly put in a good word for Yuuki.

She comes out of that one in the middle of Shigeru’s engagement party, irony and lingering hurt threatening to smash the wine-glass she’s holding. It doesn’t even have any wine in it.

“Tsukushi?” Rui puts a hand on her forearm, and Tsukushi shakes it off reactively. It isn’t that she’s jealous, she tells herself as she carefully sets down her glass. She just didn’t think this would be broken so soon, after everything she’s put into it.

“You’re upset,” Rui says after a moment, not unconcerned but always pleasant. “Even though you know this doesn’t change anything?”

Across from her, Mimasaka and Nishikado are determinedly staring up at the podium where Shigeru is speaking, as though that can keep them from overhearing this conversation.

“It’s fine,” Tsukushi deflects, feeling self-conscious about this for the first time. This is Shigeru’s engagement party. (It’s always _Shigeru’s_ engagement party, but it’s never Tsukasa’s.) They shouldn’t be doing this here. “I’m fine.”

Beside her, Rui leans forward until he’s speaking into the shell of her ear. Tsukushi ducks her head; wonders if he’s being intentionally seductive, or just doing what he wants calmly and without thinking, the way he usually does. “You know what Tsukasa feels for you. Whatever he feels for Shigeru doesn’t change that one bit. Do you think he gets upset when he thinks about what you feel for me?”

“Of course not,” Tsukushi snaps, angry because Rui _knows_ she doesn’t; angry that they’re doing this here, while Shigeru is _still speaking_. “Are you saying you think—you think Tsukasa feels like that, about Shigeru?”

“I don’t,” Rui says, calmly. “But even if he does, it really isn’t any of our business.”

He ducks closer to her again and Tsukushi almost flinches away this time, thinking he might actually be going to kiss her, _here_ , but he just presses his mouth against her cheek before retreating completely. Tsukushi stares at her wine glass and concentrates very hard on the lingering warmth left by Rui’s lips for the rest of Shigeru’s speech. She likes Shigeru; doesn’t want to be like this. It isn’t that she doesn’t know what Rui’s saying is true; it’s just that seeing what she sees makes it harder to believe.

“Sorry,” she mutters eventually, eyeing the tablecloth and imagining Rui’s responding grin. Tsukasa’s voice comes through the speakers and despite herself, Tsukushi lifts her chin.

“Better?” Rui asks, watching her as she watches Tsukasa’s eyes crinkling as he speaks; watches him reach out to grab hold of Shigeru’s hand with characteristic irritation and tug her to his side. It looks forced—for the crowd, for his _mother_ —but he doesn’t look unhappy. He looks comfortable. Shigeru is smiling. Surprisingly, it hurts less to actually see this than to imagine it.

“Yes,” Tsukushi says, and means it.

It doesn’t occur to her until much later, unzipping her dress awkwardly in the mirror, that she forgot to feel jealous about Shizuka.

 

 

 

She sees a lot of Shigeru after that—not face to face, but in her head, which she imagines means the two of them will become close. From the look of it, it’s a proper friendship, not an extension of Shigeru’s compulsive attachment to the idea of her, and Tsukushi’s happier for it.

One day, maybe years from now, maybe weeks, she will ask Shigeru, “Don’t you mind? I know you love him.”

And Shigeru will answer: “Of course I love him. But I think everyone loves a little differently, and all I ever wanted to do was bake him something and have him actually eat it, for once.”

“Oh,” future-Tsukushi says, noncommittally. She has baked things for Tsukasa, too.

“I cheer him up,” Shigeru says, and it’s not a false brightness. “Usually after you’ve upset him. That’s alright,” she continues, hastily. “You make him better. I’d be surprised if that didn’t upset him. And you know, I never imagined I’d have a husband who’d let me keep playing music.”

It’s probably at least a year into the future, then; Tsukasa’s wedding isn’t due to take place until next summer at the earliest. Tsukushi forces a smile, uncomfortable both now and in the future with Shigeru’s word choice in _let me_. It isn’t any of her business.

She hopes Shigeru’s happy.

 

 

In the end, it is mostly a lot easier than it has any right to be.

Somehow, Tsukushi gets into law school, against all the odds of her exhausting machinations, and goes out with Yuuki after closing up to celebrate. They sit at the bar slurping ramen, trading ideas about the future, and the conversation turns to Nishikado, Yuuki presumably trying to cast him in her vision of the next ten years. Tsukushi listens to her talk and thinks of F4 more generally, of the different stages they are all at in their struggle towards the future. Mimasaka is the closest, she thinks—and Tsukasa the furthest away—and Rui must be somewhere in the middle, knowing what he wants but without yet the will to get it. As for Nishikado…Tsukushi takes a moment and slots him between Tsukasa and Rui, between reactive cacophony and passive certainty.

“Listen, Yuuki…” Tsukushi lays her chopsticks horizontally over her empty bowl; wonders if this has any chance of making sense. “Maybe it’s time to stop wondering what Nishikado wants, and start trying to figure out the same thing for yourself.”

Tsukushi’s realizes, of course, that she’s had a leg-up on everyone in this domain, what with her visions, but she holds out hope for her friends.

By the time she makes it back to Tsukasa’s, it’s late and dark, and Tsukushi’s feeling exhausted and happy and extremely broth-filled. To her surprise, she finds Tsukasa waiting for her, furious at having taken the initiative only to discover she’s not around to witness it. Hanazawa Rui is asleep on his bed, a book hiding his features.

This is the first vision of the three of them that comes true, Tsukushi shouting in a throaty undertone while Tsukasa’s nostrils flair in fury and Rui sleeps soundly a small distance from them. Tsukasa isn’t wearing a scarf today, so Tsukushi tugs him forward by the loose fabric of his vest and calls him _unbelievable_ in six staccato syllables. He kisses her, and Rui wakes up, and as Tsukushi loosens shaky fingers from Tsukasa’s clothing, she watches Rui sitting up on his elbows, book sliding down to rest on his sternum, sleepily turning the possibility of it over in his mind. Then he picks up his book again and Tsukasa stiffens, but kisses back when she leans into him, and they stay like that for a long while, listening to the sound of Rui turning pages.

It gets better. _They_ get better. Tsukasa becomes more bearable, Rui picks up his book less. Tsukushi thinks if Tsukasa ever loses his temper at Eitoku again and starts hitting people, Rui probably won’t just yawn and go hide out on the fire-escape, like he used to. But she doesn’t really think that’s likely to happen any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

>   * I know Rui is meant to be characterized as borderline autistic, so the line about him picking up his book less isn’t meant to imply that he “gets better” from autism or anything disgusting like that; rather than he actually starts actively involving himself in other people’s lives and gets over his laissez-faire shtick. (Full disclosure: I hated Rui first season because he was A-grade emotionally manipulative and Makino’s disturbing devotion to him was based entirely on him being the bare minimum of not-a-creep to her. Rui can do better.)
>   * As for Tsukasa, where do I even begin with this asshole. He has _so much_ to work on. Without even touching on his violence, which is an obvious issue, there is so much else wrong with his interactions with Makino, and people around him more generally. For example in episode 6 he doesn’t even congratulate Makino on getting into law-school because he’s too busy being resentful of Rui for passing that information on. In many ways he is absolutely the worst. 
>   * Makino’s beautiful way of dealing with him is somewhat inspired/encapsulated by these two .gifs (neither of which are mine, obviously): http://cresmix.tumblr.com/post/80493721639; http://imalreadyboredandconfused.tumblr.com/post/80061139747/hana-yori-dango-via-tumblr-on-we-heart-it. It’s worth noting that 1) Makino looks 150% unrepentant in the first .gif and 2) she uses the same gesture to express being pissed off at him as to express being in love with him. Another scene that springs to mind in justification is the infamous ‘Tsukasa waiting in the rain’ scene from season 1, where Tsukushi finally shows up, feels guilty, but doesn’t even offer to let him stand under her umbrella, because this spoilt idiot needs to learn to take responsibility for his own stupid actions (“I didn’t ask you to wait for me!”). _I rest my case._
>   * Hi hi if you want to talk more about these three idiots, or if you also have an uncontrollable tendency to OT3 all fictional love triangles (and most especially those you find in j-dramas), you can find me at drunkangrystupidandblogging on tumblr. <3
> 



End file.
